


oh, no please, not love

by LovelyLessie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Heartache, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-31 10:17:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12130308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLessie/pseuds/LovelyLessie
Summary: (or, Like I Love You.) Best friends should tell each other everything, which is why Sansa Stark is upset - and maybe a little jealous - when she finds out Margaery Tyrell has a boyfriend. Because they're best friends, that's all. It's not so strange to envy her best friend's boyfriend, is it?





	1. Chapter 1

Sansa sees the door open over Jon’s shoulder and feels her heart stumble and skip a beat, though she’s not sure why, as Margaery Tyrell walks in with a handsome young man on her arm.

She doesn’t realize she’s staring until Jon starts laughing, and Robb says lightly, “You alright, Sansa?”

“What?” she says, shaking herself. “I’m - I’m fine.” She gives her brothers her most charming smile, but she can’t help glancing past them again, at Margaery and the man she’s with. She’s never seen him before - a dark-haired, well-dressed youth perhaps a few years older than Jon and Robb. She feels her cheeks flush a little and tears her eyes away, busying herself with her plate.

“What are you looking at?” Jon teases, leaning across the table. “Have you got your eyes on Margaery’s new boyfriend?”

“No!” she says quickly. “I - I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”

She’s been friends with Margaery since her freshman year, and since then they’ve told each other _everything_ \- Margaery has listened tenderly to her every heartache and sorrow, from boys to family fights to failed tests, and in turn she’s heard every worry Margaery has had about college applications, moving out of her father’s house, interviews and auditions, life in the city - they’ve had no secrets from each other for nearly three years, and yet, she didn’t know Margaery had a boyfriend.

That’s what it is, she thinks, blinking away the threat of tears that stings in her eyes. It’s only that Margaery didn’t tell her that’s made her chest get suddenly so tight and her heart so heavy.

Of course it’s different now that Margery is in college, she thinks, pushing her food around her plate with her fork. She’s only a high schooler, and a dull one at that, after all, and surely Margaery has made much more interesting friends in college. It only makes sense that she doesn’t have time now for a stupid sixteen year old like Sansa.

Still, it hurts, deep down in her chest, and she pushes her plate away, suddenly no longer hungry.


	2. Chapter 2

“Sansa,” her father says over dinner, “are you feeling alright?” 

“I’m fine,” she says, glancing up from her plate. 

“You’ve been quiet,” he says, giving her a concerned look. 

“Sansa’s got a crush,” Arya says in a sing-song voice. 

She feels her cheeks heat up. “I do not!” She says, glowering at her sister. “You’re making up stories!” 

“I’m not,” Arya says, sticking out her tongue. “Jon told me. He said you’ve got a crush on Renly Baratheon.” 

“Renly Baratheon?” Father echoes, giving Arya a sideways look. 

“That’s not true!” Sansa protests, tears springing to her eyes. “I’ve never even met Renly Baratheon!”

“Jon said you were swooning over him,” Arya taunts. “When he came to the diner with Margaery Tyrell.” 

“Jon’s making up stories too,” Sansa says, furious. “Father, make them both stop! They love to make up stories about me!” 

“Arya, don’t spread rumors about your sister,” Father says sternly. “And I’ll talk to Jon about this story, as well.” 

“It’s not a story,” Arya says. “Robb said so, too! Only he didn’t say she was swooning.” 

“Arya!” Sansa screams, kicking her under the table. “Stop being horrid!” 

“Ouch!” Arya yelps. “That hurt!” At the edge of the door, Nymeria perks up her ears, baring her teeth. 

“Girls, enough,” Mother says. 

“She kicked me,” Arya says. “I was only saying what Jon and Robb said -” 

“I hate Jon!” Sansa shouts. “And Robb too for telling stories about me! I hate them both! I hate you!” 

“It’s not a story!” Arya yells. “And you didn’t have to kick me!”

Sansa bursts into tears, her cheeks flushed with shame and embarrassment. “I’m going upstairs,” she says. “Lady, come.”

Before her father or mother can stop her, she runs out of the room and upstairs, Lady at her heels. She slams the door to her bedroom and collapses on her bed, weeping, burying her face in Lady’s fur.

“It’s not _fair,_ ” she tells Lady miserably. “Arya’s always like this. And Jon is just as bad! They’re always teasing me, and making up things to embarrass me, and no one ever _listens!”_

Lady whines softly and licks the tears off her cheeks. She sniffles, rubbing at her eyes with one hand and scratching Lady under the chin. She wants nothing more than to call Margaery and pour out all her sorrows to someone who _cares_ about them, but she can’t talk to Margaery about any of this. The thought makes her cry even harder.

“Stupid Sansa,” she mumbles, hugging Lady tighter. It’s silly to be so upset, she’s being silly, and selfish, and childish, but the tears won’t stop falling anyways.

Someone knocks on the door. “Sansa, dear,” her mother calls from the hall.

“Go _away,_ ” she shouts. “I don’t want to talk to anyone.”

“Sansa,” Mother says again, more sternly. “May I please come in?”

She wraps her arms around Lady’s neck, glowering at the door. “Why?” she asks. “What do you want?”

“I just want to make sure you’re alright,” her mother says, her voice softening.

She considers this, biting her lip and trying to blink tears from her eyes. “Fine,” she says reluctantly, and the door opens.

Mother closes it quietly behind her and crosses the room to sit down at the edge of the bed. “Come here,” she says, forgetting even to scold Sansa about letting Lady onto the furniture. Sansa slowly releases Lady and moves over to sit at her mother’s side.

“Your father and I have been worried sick,” Mother says, stroking her hair. “You haven’t been yourself the past few days, we want to know what’s wrong so we can _help._ ”

Sansa sniffles and leans closer. “It’s Margaery,” she confesses. “She’s barely spoken to me since school started, and I haven’t seen her in _ages,_ and I _miss_ her! When I saw her come into the diner with that boy I couldn’t bear it, and now I can hardly think of anything else!”

“Oh, Sansa,” her mother says, hugging her. “Have you spoken to her?”

She shakes her head, scrubbing at her eyes with the heel of her hand. “I don’t want to bother her,” she says, her voice choked. “It’s stupid, and mean, and - and - “

She sobs and buries her face in her mother’s shoulder. “Shh, shh,” Mother whispers, rocking her gently. “It’s alright.”

“I don’t know wh-why I’m so upset,” she manages. “I didn’t even know how much I missed her until I saw them together.”

“Talk to her,” her mother urges her gently. “Invite her over for supper. You’ll feel better getting to see her again.”

“What if she doesn’t want to come?” Sansa says in a small voice.

“Then she doesn’t deserve your friendship,” Mother says firmly. “Why not suggest Friday? Neither of you will have school to worry about in the morning.”

She nods meekly, wiping her eyes. “Alright,” she mumbles. “I’ll ask her.”


End file.
